


Second Time Around

by JPWard



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JPWard/pseuds/JPWard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt gives Hermann a special birthday gift, and he has a suggestion for what Hermann can do with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Time Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bravinto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/gifts).



> This is technically a sequel to my other work [If He Didn't Know Any Better](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650472), but you don't have to read that story to understand what's going on here.
> 
> I'm also dedicating this work to bravinto! The only reason I was motivated to finish this story is because I knew at least one other person in this fandom enjoys reading this sort of thing as much as I do. So this is for you!

Hermann has commandeered the desk in Newt's room to finish writing an e-mail on his laptop. The e-mail is long, not a cut-to-the-chase one or two paragraph message normally sent among shatterdome staff. Newt suspects that it's an e-mail to Karla, Hermann's sister who is busy doing research for a biomedical company in Vancouver. 

Newt is splayed out on his bed, swiping away at his tablet. He alternates rapidly between facebook, a biology journal, and his own e-mail. Every time he switches apps, he steals a glance at Hermann, who, so far, hasn't noticed his wandering attention.

When the e-mail composition window disappears from Hermann's screen, Newt perks up, staring hopefully in Hermann's direction. Instead of shutting his laptop, however, Hermann pulls up another e-mail and begins typing once more. Newt huffs impatiently, tosses his tablet onto the bedside table, and coughs pointedly. Hermann looks up.

"Okay, so," Newt begins as soon as he's got Hermann's attention, "I sort of got you an early birthday present."

Hermann raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Newt glances back at Hermann's laptop. "Are you, uh, really busy right now?"

Following Newt's gaze, Hermann says, "I don't have to be."

A few keystrokes later Hermann closes his computer and swivels the desk chair to face Newt.

"You have my attention," Hermann says.

Grinning, Newt scrambles off the bed and gets on his hands and knees to search the dark space beneath the bedframe. He quickly pulls out a medium sized, rectangular package wrapped in what appears to be several colorful flyers taken from the mess hall's bulletin board. He hands the gift over to Hermann and returns to sit on the edge of the bed; his leg bounces nervously as he watches Hermann examine the package.

"Before you open it," Newt says, and Hermann's fingers freeze over a strip of tape. "I just want to say that you can totally just take it and keep it for yourself if you want; it's your gift. But I was also thinking, if you're interested . . . there's something _else_ we could do with it."

The way Newt emphasizes _something else_ has Hermann eyeing the package warily, "Newton, if this is some sort of strange sexual device - "

"No! Well, I mean - uh . . . You know what, just open it - I swear it's nothing weird or, like, scandalous or whatever!"

Hermann studies it for a long moment before methodically peeling back the tape and unwrapping the makeshift wrapping paper. To his surprise, the gift inside is quite ordinary and not, as he had feared from Newt's disclaimer, some sort of kaiju-themed sex toy.

Underneath the flyers advertising movie nights and blood drives is a box of a dozen glazed donuts. Newt is treated to one of Hermann's rare smiles - not the rarest one where he smiles so big his eyes crinkle shut - but still a nice one where his whole face lights up around it. "These look wonderful, Newton!" he says, shaking the box free from the clinging paper.

Hermann has a notorious sweet tooth. When the dining hall offers something more than odd-colored jello for dessert, Hermann is always the first in line and shamelessly takes seconds to squirrel away in the research lounge's fridge. Newt even found a bag of M&Ms hidden away in Hermann's sock drawer one night, unopened and presumably being saved for dire times because, even with an open port, sugary treats are hard to come by. Something like a box of donuts is a rare find.

"Thank you, this is lovely," Hermann says, getting up to give Newt a quick kiss and then sitting beside him on the bed. "Where in the world did you get these?"

Newt shrugs nonchalantly. "I pulled a few strings."

"And were these strings attached to a certain bow-tied friend of ours?" Hermann asks, smiling knowingly.

"Tendo owed me one."

"Well, tell him it's much appreciated." Hermann tosses the wrapping into the trashcan next to the bedside table. "Now - I'm almost afraid to ask, but I believe you had a . . . suggestion, regarding this gift?"

"Weellll, remember there was a night a couple weeks ago you said you wouldn't mind a re-do of?" Hermann doesn't look like he does. "The night I ate too much chow fun and I asked you to rub my belly for me?" Newt prompts.

Hermann opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Newt keeps going, "I was thinking . . . if you wanted to part with, say, half that box of donuts, you could cash in on that re-do." Newt waggles his eyebrows in a way that only he could think of as seductive. "Feed me 'til I'm nice and full, then get your hands all over my stuffed gut." 

"Oh, well - I -" Hermann stutters and turns pink. Looking down at the box of donuts in his hands, he swallows thickly before looking back at Newt.

"Or you could keep them for yourself!" Newt adds hastily, "It's your gift, like I said - I just thought maybe you'd want to try . . . shit, I guess this was a weird way to go about this."

Hermann is silent for several moments before replying, "No, I admit that I . . . quite like the idea." He blushes even harder, the red on his cheeks spreading to the tops of his ears. "But . . . are you sure this is something you're interested in doing?" he asks seriously.

"Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't be suggesting it if it wasn't something I wanted to do! And this is obviously something you're into, so, yeah, why not?"

Hermann shifts uncomfortably, holding the box of donuts like he's holding a cleverly disguised bomb. "I appreciate what you're doing, Newton, I really do, but allowing me to touch your stomach while we're cuddling has been more than enough. We don't - we don't have to take this further."

"Oh," Newt says, his enthusiasm deflating a little, "Well, sure, I know we don't _have_ to, and if you don't want to, that's totally fine - I'm not gonna push you if you're not comfortable - but I just thought, you know, you might be interested in giving this a shot."

Hermann sighs. "It's not that I'm not interested - I am. I just don't want you to feel obligated to have to watch me . . . well, get off on it," he says, unable to find a more modest way of putting it.

Newt stares. "Um, okay, maybe I didn't make this explicitly clear enough to start with, but getting you off is kind of the whole _point."_

Hermann groans in mortification and drops his face into his hands.

"Hermann, it's fine!" Newt wraps his arms around Hermann and squeezes tight. "It's not something you have to be embarrassed about, and I am _more_ than willing to help you out with this!"

Hermann sighs heavily and peeks out from behind his fingers. "I'm sorry, I'm being rather dramatic, aren't I?" Hermann says.

"Nah, it's my fault for springing this on you, which, uh, now that I think about it, is kind of part of my _modus operandi,_ isn't it?"

Hermann chuckles, remembering how Newt had unexpectedly called him out on his kink the first time around. "It would seem so, yes."

"So . . . what do you say? You interested?"

Hermann lowers his hands and nods shyly. "Yes, I am," he says and then adds, trying not to sound too eager, ". . . tonight?"

"If you're up for it, I am more than game," Newt says, grinning, and he releases Hermann from his arms.

They settle themselves more comfortably on the bed. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, they sit with their backs against the wall and their thighs touching. Hermann still has the box of donuts in his lap, and his hands shake when he flips the lid open. He looks down at the donuts lined up in two neat rows before glancing, unsure what to do, back at Newt.

Newt winks. "You wanna feed 'em to me?"

Hermann stiffens in surprise and then quickly shakes his head. "P-perhaps not this time around . . ."

"One step at a time, I guess," Newt says, winking again as he takes a donut for himself.

After making sure that Hermann is watching, Newt takes a large bite, which he is in the midst of chewing when he exclaims, "Holy shit! This is amazing!" He holds out the donut to Hermann. "Here, you've gotta try this."

Hermann does, taking the donut from Newt and carefully biting off a small piece before handing the rest back. "Oh my," he says, "You're right; it is delicious. You'll have to requisition more from Tendo."

Newt pats Hermann playfully on the knee, "Don't worry, Hermann, I'll leave you some."

Newt finishes off the first donut quickly and picks up a second without hesitation. He easily juggles the tasks of eating and talking, a feat he accomplishes on a daily basis in the mess hall, and to which he is now putting to good use.

"So," Newt says between bites, "I know you're into, like, the whole belly thing, but do you wanna fill in some details for me?"

Hermann looks at Newt like a deer caught in headlights. "What details are you looking for?" he asks.

"You know, specific things you like, stuff you've done in the past that you'd want to do again . . ."

Hermann snorts, "You're assuming I've done this before."

"You haven't?" Newt supposes he shouldn't be as surprised by that as he is. "You've never explored this with past partners or anything?"

"Certainly not!" Hermann exclaims, "I've always kept my . . . inclination to myself. It's not something I imagined most people would react kindly to."

Newt bumps Hermann's elbow with his own. "I'm not most people."

"Indeed, you're not," Hermann says as he fights back a smile.

Newt sucks the sugar from his fingers before plucking yet another donut from the box on Hermann's lap.

"So . . . what is it about all this that does it for you, then?" Newt takes a large bite of the donut and talks around it, "I mean, you don't have to tell me, but I think I could make this more fun if I knew which buttons of yours I'm pushing." 

Hermann doesn't respond right away, and Newt thinks he's not going to get an answer when Hermann says, "I think . . . part of it is witnessing the pleasure that comes from eating: seeing someone's satisfaction after consuming a large meal - or the slight pain that comes with overindulgence," Hermann says, watching Newt out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay," Newt says, trying to wrap his brain around it, "so you like knowing that after a few more donuts I'm going to be feeling pretty full, right?" 

Hermann nods and bites at his lower lip. "There's that . . . and there's also the . . . physical aspects that I find - arousing." He worries at a pulled thread on the PPDC issued blanket. "I enjoy . . . watching as a person's stomach becomes firm and warm, stretched with food. Seeing it bloated outward, skin taut . . ." he swallows.

Taking another large bite, Newt places a hand suggestively on his stomach, "I think I can work with that."

Hermann looks at Newt cautiously with half-lidded eyes. "So you don't find this . . . odd?"

"Not any odder than the things you've done for me in bed," Newt smirks. 

Hermann bites at his lip again but doesn't say anything.

By the time Newt finishes the third donut, Hermann is starting to sneak guilty glances down at Newt's belly, which he has made no move yet to touch. Obviously Newt is going to have to be the one to get this party started.

He picks up another donut and nudges Hermann with his elbow again as he takes a bite. "So . . . you wanna rub my belly?"

Hermann's breath catches, and his gaze leaves his silent admiration of Newt's stomach to seek confirmation in Newt's eyes. "And you're positive this is alright?"

"One-hundred percent," Newt says.

Hermann's eyes drop back down to Newt's middle. With the same hesitancy that reminds Newt of the infamous chow fun night, Hermann slowly lays a cautious hand on Newt's belly. Unlike that night, however, Hermann doesn't try to hide just how much he enjoys touching Newt like this. Hermann lets his lips part and his breath come faster as he slides his hand along the curve of Newt's stomach. Though Newt is still wearing his button-down from the lab (his tie lies discarded somewhere on the floor), it's not long before he feels the warmth of Hermann's hand seeping through the fabric. Newt sighs as Hermann rubs his stomach in wide, expansive circles, pressing down just hard enough to feel the soft give of Newt's chub.

"I gotta say, Hermann, I think this is something that's going to have to happen more often."

Hermann's only response it to grasp the pudge of Newt's lower belly and jiggle it gently. And, okay, _that_ would be a little embarrassing if Hermann wasn't staring at his gut like it's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

The intensity of Hermann's focus makes the belly rub feel much more intimate than it has any right to. As he watches Hermann entranced by his stomach, Newt remembers Hermann's confession from several weeks ago: _I've always had a - a 'thing' for stomachs, you could say. It's such an intimate part of someone: soft . . . unprotected . . . something one normally only sees and touches in private moments . . ._ Newt is glad that he gets to be the one to let Hermann explore this.

Newt is almost done his fourth donut, but he's no longer taking such large bites, no longer chewing and swallowing as fast as he had been when he started.

"Gettin' kinda full," he mutters.

Dinner had only been an hour ago, and the meal was just beginning to settle low in his belly when he had started in on the donuts. The weight of all the food finally has him slowing down as his gut stretches to accommodate it all. Hermann's hand keeps moving, feeling out Newt's progress as Newt polishes off his current donut. When he reaches for his fifth, Hermann's eyes follow the movement of his hand like an owl tracking a mouse through the underbrush.

Newt takes a small bite, chews slowly, and swallows, all while Hermann stares, eyes wide and pupils blown out. Taking a deep breath, Newt stretches his stomach out and pats the side of it with his free hand, trying to gauge how much room he's got left. Not much, but he figures he can manage one, maybe two more before he has to call it quits. Another bite, another swallow, and Hermann's hand stops moving; his fingers toy with the button on Newt's shirt that sits right over his navel.

"May I?" Hermann asks, his voice hushed.

Newt answers through a mouthful of donut, "Yeah, dude, go ahead."

Hermann's fingers shake as he fumbles with the button, losing his grip several times from nervousness. When he finally manages to work the button through its hole, Newt's navel and a few inches of tattooed skin are revealed in the parting of the fabric. More buttons follow, undone as painstakingly as the first, until the lower half of Newt's shirt has been unbuttoned. Newt braces his back against the wall and lifts his hips so Hermann can untuck his shirttails from his pants. When his shirt is free, Hermann spreads it open, exposing Newt's bloated middle. In it's dormant state, Newt's stomach is pudgy and soft with a delightful heft to it in Hermann's hands. Now, full of food and rounded outward, the sight makes Hermann's heart pound. 

Hermann reaches out and lays his hand once again on Newt's belly, it's plush warmth amplified now that Hermann has the bare skin of it under his fingertips. 

Hermann's fingers press more firmly than before, probing the softer flesh to feel the resistance of Newt's strained stomach underneath. Massaging in slow, small circles, Hermann works against the tightness of Newt's gut. The pressure rides just on the right side of the line between pleasure and discomfort, and Newt groans at the relief Hermann's touch gives him. For someone who's never done this with another person, Hermann sure knows what he's doing. Newt's brain offers up an image of Hermann in the privacy of his room after a large meal, touching his own stomach like he's touching Newt's now, learning just how much pressure it takes to feel good as he strokes his dick with his other hand.

Newt swallows the last of the fifth donut and puts a hand on Hermann's wrist to still him. "I'm gonna have to rest for a second here, man."

Hermann nods, looking down at Newt with strangely hungry eyes. He withdraws his hand from Newt's middle and leans over to give Newt a shaky kiss. The glaze has left a sugary coating on Newt's lips, making them sticky, but Hermann doesn't seem to mind. Hermann pulls back, licks his own lips, and then presses a second kiss to Newt's mouth to savor the taste.

They kiss like this, slow but earnest, until both are breathless. Hermann has sucked the rest of the glaze from Newt's lips, and Newt is dizzy with both the pleasure of kissing and the pain of an overly stretched belly. He takes a few, deep breaths, waiting for his stomach to settle as Hermann strokes lightly at the softness of his sides.

"I think I can do one more," Newt says. Before he reaches for the sixth donut, however, he undoes the button on his jeans, giving his gut a little more room. He sighs as his belly slides forward in its new found freedom, and he pulls down his zipper for good measure. Hermann's mouth is hanging open, and he looks like he's about to pass out from, Newt assumes, the amount of blood that has just rushed from his brain to an organ farther south.

Newt takes his sixth donut from the box and takes a bite. _Fuck,_ this might be harder than he thought. Hermann's hand has returned to Newt's stomach, but he's careful not to press too hard, which Newt is grateful for. Newt chews slowly, swallows thickly, and takes shallow breathes as each bite settles solidly inside him. 

He thinks he's going to be able to do it, finish the sixth donut for Hermann, but when he struggles to get down the third bite, it feels like he has absolutely no room left. If he tries for any more, there's a very real chance that the night is going to end unpleasantly. Tossing the other half of the donut back in the box with a long groan, Newt rests his head against the wall behind him and declares, "Okay, that's it; I'm done." He exhales sharply and places his hands on either side of his stomach.

Hermann removes his own hand from Newt's belly and moves the half empty donut box from his lap to the bedside table, and - fuck - Newt can see the evidence of the hard-on that Hermann's been hiding, his ill fitting pants underlining it obscenely.

"Newton." Hermann's voice is ragged, and Newt realizes Hermann hasn't said anything for a long time. "Newton - how do you feel?"

Newt thinks about it, then answers with a pained sigh, "So full, dude. Fuck, if I ate any more, I'm pretty sure I would pop."

Newt doesn't think Hermann means to let out the strangled groan that spills from his lips because he's _never_ heard Hermann sound anything like that before. There are these faint, desperate noises coming from the back of Hermann's throat that he only makes when he gets _really_ worked up, and his breath comes in gasps as he palms himself through his pants.

Newt can't help staring in parts disbelief, fascination, and arousal because, holy shit, Hermann is _really_ into this.

Hermann must misinterpret the look on Newt's face, though, because his hand stills on his groin, and he starts to ask "Are you sure - " 

Newt interrupts before Hermann even finishes asking. "Hermann. I literally just ate half your birthday present. If you _don't_ come, it'd be an unacceptable waste of donuts. Got it?"

Hermann nods and then licks his lips as he looks Newt up and down, grinding the heel of his hand against his cock once more. Newt is about to suggest maybe giving Hermann a little help with that when, to Newt's surprise, Hermann takes the initiative and rearranges himself so that he is straddling Newt, a bent knee on either side of Newt's legs. Sitting back on his haunches, Hermann allows Newt's thighs support most of his weight.

Flashing Hermann a bright grin, Newt places his hands on Hermann's thighs and squeezes encouragingly. Hermann meets Newt's eyes and gives a returning sheepish smile before letting his gaze slide down to the swell of Newt's belly. "I really do find you quite attractive like this," he admits, swallowing hard.

"Yeah? You like what you see?" Newt gives his stomach a pat.

Hermann exhales a breathy _oh, yes,_ pausing only momentarily before undoing his flies and taking his cock in hand. It's already flushed dark red from prolonged arousal, and Hermann shivers when he finally allows himself a languid stroke.

“Dude, how long have you been nursing that?”

Hermann sighs. “Since you picked up your third donut,” he admits. _"God,_ Newton, you have no idea how long I've wanted this." Herman squeezes himself and groans, “How many times I've - I've thought about touching you while you're like this.” With his free hand, Hermann reaches out and slides his palm along the swollen curve of Newt's belly. “I never thought you would let me, once you discovered what it does to me.”

"Fuck, Hermann, if I had known you liked this so much, we could have been doing this _ages_ ago," Newt says, his own cock filling out as he watches Hermann reach into the drawer of Newt's bedside table and pull out the bottle of lube inside. Hermann pops open the lid and slicks himself up, dropping the bottle onto the bed when he is finished with it.

Struck with a sudden idea, Newt takes the bottle of lube and squirts some onto the taut skin of his upper stomach. Hermann's eyes go wide, and Newt takes Hermann's unoccupied hand and presses it to his belly, sliding it through the slick lube and over the rest of his aching stomach.

“You like how that feels, Hermann?”

" _Newton,"_ Hermann croaks as he starts to fist himself in earnest.

"Can you tell how full I am?"

Whimpering, Hermann nods and squeezes Newt's abused stomach hard enough to elicit a groan from Newt. Hermann is making those faint noises in the back of his throat again, and Newt knows Herman's not going to last.

“Shit, you love me stuffed like this, don't you?” Newt purrs, watching intently as Hermann's eyelashes flutter and his cock twitches and leaks at Newt's words. "I've got so much food in me I feel like I'm ready to burst.”

Hermann sways, and Newt puts his hands on Hermann's waist to steady him.

“I'm close,” Hermann whispers.

"Fuck yeah, Hermann," Newt says, "Come right on my stomach. I know you want to." 

And he does; Hermann comes with a shout, shaking as he marks Newt's belly with sticky, white stripes. His release completes an already salacious picture on Newt's distended gut, and liquid vowel sounds tumble from Hermann's mouth as he wrings the last waves of pleasure from himself.

When Hermann comes back down from his high, he is boneless and grinning loosely. He leans forward to kiss Newt and murmurs _thank you_ against his lips.

“No problem, man," Newt says, "Happy birthday." 

Watching Hermann get off has Newt achingly hard, and Hermann has no problem returning the favor with an enthusiastic blow job that includes nuzzling at the soft chub of Newt's lower belly as he works. It doesn't take long, and Newt's orgasm feels like a footnote tacked onto the end of what they've just done, but he is grateful for it all the same. Afterward, Hermann insists that Newt stay where he is as he goes to find a washcloth to clean up the mess of lube and cum on Newt's belly.

The washcloth is warm, Hermann's touch gentle, and Newt sighs when Hermann's hand lingers on his stomach. Newt catches Hermann's wrist and grins at him, "Please tell me we're doing this again," Newt says.

Hermann ducks his head and smiles, "Yes, I think so."


End file.
